Part 1: The Gambler's Ace
Silas raised his scimitars to behead the unconscious Valen and the crippled Isara.
"Say goodbye."
BANG.
A bullet sparked off Silas's blade, inches from Isara's neck. The impact force was heavy—heavier than before.
Silas stopped. He turned his head slowly toward the mezzanine.
Roger was standing on the railing, his rifle smoking. He wasn't hiding anymore. He dropped down to the marble floor, his boots clicking echoing in the silence.
"You ignore me again," Roger said, tipping the brim of his hat, "and I'll put the next one in your eye."
Silas chuckled, turning his full body toward the Sniper. "The coward descends. Good. I'll dissect you first so she can watch."
Silas blurred.
He crossed the twenty meters between them in a heartbeat.
Roger didn't run. He slid backward, firing from the hip. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Silas deflected every bullet with casual flicks of his wrists, closing the distance.
"Too slow!" Silas roared, slashing horizontally at Roger's neck.
Roger ducked, the blade severing the top of his hat. He rolled, firing a shotgun shell from his under-barrel attachment.
Silas side-stepped the spread, his grin widening. "I have you."
He cornered Roger against a pillar. There was nowhere to run. The level gap was absolute; an Assassin always catches a Sniper.
Silas lunged, both blades aiming for Roger's heart.
"Gotcha," Silas whispered.
Roger smirked. "Nope."
[Skill: Dimensional Blink]
Zzzzt.
Roger didn't move fast; he simply ceased to exist at point A and appeared at point B.
Silas's blades cut through empty air.
Five meters behind him, space warped, and Roger materialized, kneeling, rifle already shouldered.
"What?" Silas spun around, shock cracking his composure.
BANG.
The bullet caught Silas in the shoulder before he could raise a guard. Blood sprayed.
"A spatial skill?" Silas hissed, clutching his wound. "You've been hiding that?"
"I keep an ace for the river card," Roger racked the bolt. "Come on, copycat. Let's dance."
Part 2: The Alchemist's Cocktail
While Silas chased the elusive Sniper, Isara dragged herself up against the wall.
Her chest was burning. Her HP was critical. She watched Roger blinking around the hall, dodging death by millimeters, but she knew he couldn't keep it up. His mana would run dry.
She reached into her pouch with trembling fingers.
Three vials remained.
Red (Life). Blue (Mana). Gold (Power).
Luna had warned them: "Never mix them. The toxicity will stop your heart."
Isara looked at Valen, unconscious and bleeding. She looked at Roger, fighting a hopeless battle.
"Sorry, Luna," she whispered.
She uncorked all three.
She poured them into her mouth at once.
GULP.
Fire.
It wasn't liquid; it was molten lava. Isara's back arched. Her veins turned gold, then blue, then angry red. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird—
thump-thump-thump-thump.
[System Warning: Toxicity Overload.]
[System Override: Berserk State Activated.]
[All Stats +20%. Cooldowns Reduced by 30%. Pain Receptors: OFF.]
Silas had finally caught Roger. He kicked the sniper into the wall, pinning him with a blade to the throat.
"Out of tricks," Silas sneered.
BOOM.
A shockwave of violet and gold mana exploded from the other side of the room.
Silas turned—and immediately blocked.
CLANG!
Isara was there. Her eyes were glowing pure white. Her speed was no longer human; she was a blur of violence. The impact of her dagger against Silas's sword created a shockwave that cracked the marble floor.
"Round two," Isara said. Her voice sounded like two people speaking at once.
Part 3: The Nine-Minute Waltz
The fight that followed was a blur of steel and sparks.
It wasn't a slaughter anymore; it was a duel.
With the Blue Potion reducing her cooldowns, Isara was spamming [Shadow Step] every two seconds. She was everywhere—ceiling, floor, behind him, above him.
With the Gold Potion, her strength rivaled a warrior's. She parried Silas's heavy attacks head-on, sparks showering them like fireworks.
Roger, free from the pressure, unleashed hell.
"Right elbow!"
BANG.
Silas flinched as a bullet shattered his elbow guard.
Isara capitalized instantly, slashing his forearm.
"Left knee!"
BANG.
Silas stumbled. Isara spun, kicking him in the jaw.
For nine minutes, they fought in perfect harmony. The hallway was destroyed—pillars slashed, tapestries burning. Silas was bleeding from a dozen wounds, his arrogance replaced by desperate rage.
"Die! Why won't you die?!" Silas screamed, summoning more clones.
Isara didn't even slow down. She tore through the clones like they were paper, her daggers glowing with the infinite mana of the Blue Potion.
But the clock was ticking.
[Berserk Duration: 09:45... 09:50...]
Isara's movements began to lag. The golden light in her veins dimmed. The exhaustion of the crash was setting in early.
She swung her dagger, but her arm felt like lead.
Silas saw the opening.
"You're empty!" he roared.
He knocked Isara's dagger away. He kicked Roger's rifle from his hands.
Silas raised both scimitars high, aiming to split Isara in half while she was paralyzed by the potion's aftereffect.
Isara looked up, unable to move. I couldn't finish it.
The blades came down.
Part 4: The Golden Wall
CRASH.
The sound wasn't metal cutting flesh. It was metal hitting an immovable object.
Dust billowed out.
When it cleared, a massive tower shield was planted between Silas and Isara.
Kneeling behind it, eyes burning with the same golden fire of the Berserk Potion, was Valen.
He had woken up two minutes ago. He had seen them fighting. And he had drunk his own cocktail—Blue and Gold.
"You..." Silas gasped, trying to pull his swords back, but they were wedged in the shield.
Valen stood up.
He didn't look like the weakened, poisoned paladin from before. He looked like an engine of war. The Gold Potion stacked with his natural tank stats made him a giant.
"You touched my team," Valen said. His voice was calm. Terrifyingly calm.
He grabbed Silas's wrist with his free hand.
CRACK.
He crushed the bone. Silas screamed, dropping one sword.
"One minute," Valen said, looking at Isara and Roger. "We have one minute before we crash. Let's make it count."
Part 5: Total Domination
The last sixty seconds wasn't a fight. It was an execution.
[00:59]
Valen didn't use a skill. He just shield-bashed Silas.
BAM.
Silas flew back ten meters, coughing blood. Before he could land, Roger—who had retrieved his rifle—fired.
BANG.
The bullet went through Silas's right shoulder, pinning him to the wall for a split second.
[00:40]
Silas tried to Clone.
"No," Isara whispered. Even sluggish, she pushed her body past the limit. She shadow-stepped directly in front of him.
She jammed both daggers into his thighs.
"Stay."
[00:20]
Silas fell to his knees, screaming. "I am the Vice Master! I am—"
Valen grabbed him by the face. The Paladin lifted the Level 45 Boss into the air with one hand.
"You are nothing," Valen growled.
He slammed Silas into the floor. The marble cratered.
[00:10]
Silas lay broken in the crater, looking up at the three of them.
The Tank. The Assassin. The Sniper.
They stood over him, bathed in the dying light of their Berserk potions.
"Roger," Valen said. "Do the honors."
Roger walked up, placed the barrel of his rifle against Silas's forehead.
"Tell the devil," Roger tipped his broken hat, "Eclipse sent you."
BANG.
[System Message: Boss Defeated - Silas, The Mimic.]
[Experience gained...]
Part 6: The Crash
The moment Silas died, the potions wore off.
It was instant.
The golden light vanished.
Isara collapsed forward, unconscious before she hit the ground.
Valen dropped his shield, falling backward, his eyes rolling back into his head.
Roger's legs gave out, and he slid down a pillar, gasping for air, his mana completely zeroed out.
The hallway was silent again, save for the crackling of torches.
Three bodies lay on the floor—one dead, three paralyzed.
They had won. But they weren't going anywhere.
"Your turn... Boss," Roger wheezed, looking toward the dark tunnel where Elian had gone.
Then, darkness took him too.